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“Seriously? You’ve known me for over a freaking year. When have I ever slept with one of them? Not to mention, why do you think the taken ones are always calling you over after they’ve asked me?”
All she did was nod her head and then walk off.
I hadn’t realized that I had stopped wiping the bar when Stella asked as she walked over to me, “Hey honey, you okay?”
I didn’t know if I was or not, honestly.
Something weird was happening to me.
I missed him.
Those brief moments together, the impact that seeing those smiles form on his beautiful face.
The short text messages I got.
They didn’t do it for me.
How was this even possible?
Had she asked me something... oh yeah, I answered, “Just thinking.”
“What about?” Sutton asked.
Just as she asked that, Chloe and Adeline walked over and looked at me expectantly.
But it was Stella that tossed her hands up and exclaimed, “Thinking about what girl?”
“Pipe.”
They all nodded, and I knew that Sutton and Adeline understood better than most.
I was behind the bar today because the prospects were all tasked with cleaning the bikes to get them ready for a charity run that was taking place this weekend.
It was a run for kids that have leukemia. Since Gage, a member of Wrath MC, Dogwood chapter had fallen for a woman with a daughter that had leukemia but had beaten it like a boss, we were raising money to benefit the other kids that didn’t have the help that they did.
All the brothers but a handful were out collecting donations from the townspeople.
Just as I grabbed a beer for Rachel, who sneered at Lizette again, the front door opened, and a woman walked in.
One that had every eye on her.
Who the hell was she?
Was she lost?
Matter of fact, I was about to ask her that when Rachel beat me to it, “Are you lost?”
The woman didn’t answer Rachel, just looked down her nose at her and that had me clenching my fists.
She was dressed in pants that I knew cost more than my entire wardrobe, not to mention the shirt that had to have cost more than my phone bill for an entire year.
And don’t even get me started on her hair.
That was when the woman walked over to the bar and leered at me.
I was about to go off when she sat down on one of the barstools, looked at the bar top, and then sat her bag in her lap, that I wasn’t going to touch the price tag of with a ten-foot pole and asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Gabby. Who are you?” Something about this woman told me I knew of her, but I’ve never seen her before in my life. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
